


In the Snow

by Bioluminescent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, The Alpha Pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:09:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bioluminescent/pseuds/Bioluminescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With an amused laugh Deucalion speaks, "I really hope they find you just as you take your last breath, your fingers twitching in their direction, your beautiful eyes meeting theirs just as the spark that keeps them laughing dies like a cold ember, your supple skin reduced to the hard flesh of a mindless corpse, your usual flailing reduced to fading twitches and convulsions," Stiles forces himself to keep from flinching away as Deucalion dreamily runs a claw down the side of his face. "Your erratic heartbeat slowly quieting, then stopping as they look on helplessly, no choice but to watch you die because of me. And then, this is my favorite part, they will be forced to wonder if they could have saved you if they had come a few moments earlier as they carry your lifeless body to the burnt house."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first go at writing any kind of fanfic, so please let me know if there is anything I can fix, grammatical errors, spelling errors, etc. I will try my best to fix them. Also, when I post new chapters, I may post them later than expected so please bear with me, I will try my best to post them as soon as possible. Hope it's not too bad :D

A choked wheeze bursts through his lips as Stiles stumbles, once again, over a hidden clump of tree roots. He shoots to his feet as a branch snaps loudly to his left. With his heart in his throat, Stiles tries to ignore the pain in his left shoulder, the burning intensifying with every harsh breath and jarring step.  
Stiles bites back a scream of pain as one of the wolves rakes his claws down his back. A howl is frighteningly close towards the front of him and he skids to a halt as glowing red eyes flash open near his face. He swallows his heart back into his chest and blinks in surprise as four werewolves bleed out of the darkened woods, surrounding hi. I a circle.  
A nasty chuckle erupts from the alpha in front of him and a gravelly voice whispers, "Lets see if we can make you scream, human."

 

 

 

 

Bursting through Derek's fire damaged front door, Scott interrupts his speech with a wild look around the room. Isaac shoots to his feet as he catches a whiff of worry, anxiety and anger. Scott desperately scans the room, his flashing eyes skipping over everyone's face before visibly slumping against the door frame.  
Derek warily rises and rumbles, "Scott? What-"  
Scott straightens quickly and snarls, "Deucalion."  
The pack watches shocked as Scott whirls around and bolts out of the house, completely wolfed-out. Isaac grabs their attention as he gets up with a sigh, slipping his leather jacket over his shoulders.  
"Stiles is missing and Scott-" Isaac is interrupted as the entire pack follows Scott's lead out of the house.  
A small chuckle escapes his lips as Derek pushes ahead of them all, his eyes hard with a steely resolve.  
.  
Each breath is a painful reminder of Deucalion's playtime for Stiles. He forces his eyes open when the sound of crunching snow near his head alerts him to a person standing above him.  
A strongly boned face leans over him, warm breath ghosting over his cold lips. Stiles stares at the alpha in the eyes, his amber eyes speaking for him where his broken voice cannot.  
With an amused laugh Deucalion speaks, "I really hope they find you just as you take your last breath, your fingers twitching in their direction , your beautiful eyes meeting theirs just as the spark that keeps them laughing dies like a cold ember, your supple skin reduced to the hard flesh of a mindless corpse, your usual flailing reduced to fading twitches and convulsions," Stiles forces himself to keep from flinching away as Deucalion dreamily runs a claw down the side of his face. "Your erratic heartbeat slowly quieting, then stopping as they look on helplessly, no choice but to watch you die because of me. And then, this is my favorite part, they will be forced to wonder if they could have saved you if they had come a few moments earlier as they carry your lifeless body to the burnt house."  
Stiles forces out a small laugh at that, ignoring Deucalion's claw against his jugular. "While I do appreciate that wonderful picture you have painted I. My head, you have just one flaw to that plan."  
"What do you mean?" Angry now, Deucalion's eyes flash alpha red and his hand closes around a Stiles' throat.  
Stiles nods his head towards Deucalion's eyes. "That's just it. If Derek finds me, and he will seeing as I am an important part to the pack, and I am dying, he would bite me. Not so smart are you now?"  
A loud growl echoes in Stiles' ears as his head is slammed violently into the ground beneath him. The rough hands at his head continue to slam his head through the snow and onto the frost bitten ground.  
"I. Will. Make. You. Scream." Deucalion snarls, punctuating each word with a slam of the ground. And Stiles gives him what he wants.  
.  
From halfway across the snow-buried forest, Derek's head shoots up from tracking as he hears the long howl that Deucalion has forced out of Stiles. He growls deep in his body as he listens to his pack members pain, his anger fueling him as he races to stop Stiles' imminent death.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the first chapter was so short, but luckily, I was smart enough to pre-write the first few chapters, so I can post the next few quickly.

Opening his eyes, Stiles groans against the soft pillow beneath him. He tries to shift, but a hot lancing pain shoots straight through his body, outlining a few specific points from a too hard lacrosse practice. His left shoulder, his right ankle and knee, his arms, ribs and back, and with a paralleling groan, his head.  
Stiles tries as best he can to snuggle back down in his soft bed, trying to ignore the breeze wafting through his comforter. Before long, goose bumps run up his arms and he shivers, rubbing his hands up and down them, trying to warm up. But he soon shivers another time not long after that. And again. He shivers again before he attempts to curl up into his usual fetal position, but his body hurts to much to move, or even think. Stiles thinks back to see what happened to him, but all he remembers is running through the woods.  
He heads a faint yell and he struggles up from his sleep endured hallucination to frown. He figures his dad must be watching a movie with the volume up too high. Stiles hears the shout again, closer this time. A warmth blossoms below him in his bed and he shifts closer to it.  
Shifting painfully off his back, Stiles drags his hands through the warm wetness beneath him. His hands still as the thought penetrates the fuzziness in his head. His bed shouldn't be this cold. Or wet. Stiles lifts a shaky hand to his face, watching as red blood drips slowly off his fingertips, staining the snow beneath him. Realization dawns on him that he is not in bed and the shouting is not a movie.  
Stiles forces a groan out if himself, finally able to make out the words that make up the shouts.  
"Stiles?! Where are you? Stiles?!" The shouts become more panic stricken as Stiles' lids droop.  
Bracing himself in his little blood-stained burrow, Stiles lets out all his pain and confusion in one loud shout.  
.  
Derek zeros in on Stiles quicker than he normally would have thanks to his shout. He bursts into the clearing just to see Stiles' eyes close wearily. Derek feels the blood rushing through his body as he stares at the bloodied mess called Stiles. An all too familiar coppery tang fills his mouth as he rushes to Stiles' side. The slush red snow seeps into his jeans, but he doesn't care. Eyes flashing, Derek quickly controls his anger as he takes in the slow, erratic heartbeat and the deep gashes over Stiles' body.  
Bending over Stiles, Derek gently shakes his shoulder and whispers hesitantly, "Stiles? I'm going to have to move you so you can be taken care of in the hospital."  
All he gets is an answering groan. His leather jacket comes off and he wraps it around Stiles' torso, pushing Stiles onto his back. A muffled whimper nips at his conscious. Far gentler than he has done in a long time, Derek slides his arms beneath Stiles and cradles him against his chest before standing.  He starts off toward the edge of the woods, pulling out his phone in one hand, trying to text everybody that Stiles is relatively safe. Not exactly safe from death yet though.  
A hand clutches the front if his shirt and Derek meets feverish rum-colored eyes with his own, his stomach fluttering uncontrollably at the touch. But this isn't the time for strange feelings.  
"Deucalion..." Stiles starts, but Derek interrupts him with a soft hush.  
"Not now, you can tell me later." Derek says soothingly, an alien emotion for him.  
Stiles' eyes flash and his grip tightens as Derek steps over a fallen tree trunk. "But there may not be a later."  
Derek panics for a moment when he tries to imagine a pack life without Stiles there. Isaac would be mopey, Scott would be destroyed, Erica and Boyd would talk less than they already do, and Derek...  
Derek forces the thought out of his head and growls, "You are staying with us no matter what it takes." And breaks into a run.  
Stiles reflexively tightens his grip on Derek's shirt, pulling down the collar and getting flashed with Derek's collarbone. The gait is smooth, with no bumps or stumbles, Derek solid and warm beneath him. He relaxes into Derek as much as he can, trying to ignore the amount of blood coating his jacket and seeping into his shirt.  
Stiles mumbles something incoherent to Derek right before he falls unconscious, his hand falling limp into his lap, his head lolling from Derek's shoulder to his arm, his neck exposed and stretched.  
.  
Flashing lights. Screaming. Angry voices and calm voices. Stinging warmth. Rough hands. Wet splashes. Gunshots. The feeling of being moved on a gurney. Light tugs.  
And then the pain. Hot fire whips across his body, wrapping his entire being into a maelstrom of lancing knives and pinpricks. A moan echoes in a room and the loud noises and jabbering voices start up again obnoxiously. Gentle hands are at his head as the voices quiet and disappear, the pain crescendoing in a wave that crashes over his head and drags him into the depths of his ocean.  
.  
Sheriff Stilinski stares at the doctor in disbelief at the news. His mouth opens and closes like a floundering fish on land, searching for words. Isaac steps forward from the back of the room and voices his concerns.  
"Will he make a full recovery?"  
The doctor nods solemnly and replies, "Yes, but it is going to take him awhile. He will need to have regular checkups and the minimum amount he is going to be in the hospital is two months." A strangled choke is heard from Stiles and everybody in his room looks to the bed he is in.  
His breathing is hitched and he is shivering uncontrollably, his long fingered hands clutching and twisting the thin sheet beneath him. Derek and his pack frown as they hear the stuttering and fluttering of Stiles' heart starting and stopping. The doctor almost shrieks as he watches the heart screen and runs out to the hall yelling for life support. Erica closes the door behind him and locks it, waving at Derek.  
Sheriff stares at Derek as he walks to Stiles' side and places his hands on the side of his face. The drawn out lines in Stiles' face relax, Derek's veins turning black as he draws out the pain.  
Derek tries to ignore how Stiles' cheekbones feel against his palms, and the way he still licks his lips habitually. A wave of struggle washes over him, but not over the physical Stiles. Over his memories. Stiles shoves his memories at Derek, his whirlwind of a mind battering away at Derek's defenses. The rest of the room watches in shock as sweat forms along Derek's brow, and his breathing becomes ragged, his eyes slowly fluttering shut.  
"Derek?" Erica says concerned.  
Stiles' sheer willpower shocks Derek into submission and he feels each and every blow that rained down on Stiles' flesh by the alphas, red glowing eyes flash in Derek's eyes and he flinches to everybody else's shock.  
Red alpha eyes flash open in horror and he rips his hands away from Stiles' head, stumbling back to the wall.  
Derek opens his mouth, his hands cradled against his chest, hiding the sear marks on his palms. but then the doctor begins to bang in the door, demanding to be let in, saving Derek from an explanation for now.  
Erica unlocks the door with a sultry smile and says, "It got stuck." The doctor just walks by her with an army of nurses and stares at the deeply sleeping Stiles.  
Ducking his head down, Derek stares at his shoes, praying that his breathing is normal and his eyes are forest green instead of red.  
"But...he was just...what?" The doctor stutters, awestruck by the steadily beeping monitor in front of him.  
With a complacent face Isaac steps forward and says innocently, "It must have been a bad dream. He stopped twitching after you left."  
The doctor reaches forward to feel Stiles' forehead. The immediate things that come out of his mouth are, "Thermometer. Now." A nurse hands him a thermometer and he pops it into Stiles' resisting mouth.  
A soft hand on his elbow makes Derek twitch violently. But when he turns his head, he sees Stiles' father staring at him with a contemplating look.  
"Let's go outside for a moment. You look like you need some fresh air." Sheriff says, flashing a look towards his son and then to the four werewolves sitting in various positions around the room.  
The cop must decide that his son will be safe for a couple of moments without him and walks out of the room. Derek follows behind him and into a side stairwell. The smell of hospital bleach brings back the memories if when one of the human members of the pack, before the fire, had broken his back. They had rushed him to the hospital and even though Derek, five at the time, hadn't known him very well, he had still sat by his bedside, holding his hand until he died in the middle if the night. His mother had asked him if wanted the bite, but he told them all that some things happened for a reason. Derek swallows down the pain at the thought that he wasn't alone for much longer.  
A sigh from Mr. Stilinski brings him out of his reverie and Derek glances up, watching as he leans against the rail, his head on his hands.  
"What happened back there? With the pain drawing and the terrorized backing away from my son, who has over 200 stitches and staples in his body?" His voice is soft, with a faint undertone of pain and sorrow that Derek almost misses.  
Ignoring the scent of regret Derek replies, "He." Looking down at his shoes again, he swallows uncomfortably. "He, inadvertently, shared his memories of what happened to him with me. He also shared the emotions." Derek hears Mr. Stilinski gasp beside him, tension rolling off him in waves. "What Stiles went through though," another painful swallow, "it was awful. What those dicks did to him.... it was just cruel. Stiles went through all of that and didn't scream until the end. They went at him for a long time. Too long." By the end of his confession, Derek is practically spitting the words out in anger, completely ignoring the father beside him.  
A gentle hand is once again on his elbow, shaking him out of his anger. Derek looks up into the eyes of a Stilinski, hard with passion and resolve, and he feels as if it is Stiles touching him and not his father.  
"That, is what the Stilinski men do. We fight through everything and we survive. Tell Stiles that I have a night shift. I'll be back in the morning." Sheriff Stilinski says, releasing Derek and walking down the stairs. Turning around he continues, "Oh and by the way, make sure he has at least one werewolf or hunter near him at all times." Derek nods and John continues in his way.  
As Derek walks back to Stiles' room, the doctor pushes past him yelling for heated blankets and people with high body temperatures. Derek quickens his pace, concern washing over his olfactory senses like a brick wall. He bursts into the room and stands shock still as he stares at what is in front if him.  
Erica is laying on one side of Stiles, nuzzling into his neck, her arm wrapped around his waist. Isaac, the little cherub that he is, is curled up into a ball at the top of the bed, his body cradling Stiles' head. Scott is laying across his best friends legs, his limbs splayed over the entire bottom half of the bed, including parts of Erica.  
Stiles himself looks so comfortable that he is sleeping even deeper than before, but with a slight smile pulling up the corners of his lips. His chin is resting on the crown of Erica's head and one of his hands is laced into Scott's hair, as if he had been running his fingers through it. Derek bites down the lonely howl from his wolf, forcing the human back into his jealousy.  
Erica looks up from her nuzzling and says, "Are you going to join us or not? He has hypothermia."  
Derek just walks over to the other side of the bed and strips off his shirt muttering at every-bodies look, "It was covered in blood."  
Stiles mumbles softly as Derek completes the circle of warmth, laying down his muscle mass next to the gangly boy. Erica just resumes nuzzling the side of Stiles' neck, brushing her nose against his collarbone. A soft hand lands lightly on Derek's abdomen, the skin too cool against his.  
"If you are going to heat him back up, then you are going to have to snuggle if you want him to live." A voice says frighteningly close to Derek's ear. Derek just looks at Mrs. McCall before turning on his side and slinging an arm across Stiles' stomach above Erica's. He cushions his head on Isaac's calf and pulls himself flush against Stiles. The violent shiver against him alerts him to how wildly beating Stiles' heart is.  
The hand at his abdomen stills as he shifts, then it rests on his waist, the long fingers wrapping around his hipbone.  
It is the first time since the fire that Derek falls asleep without any of his regrets flashing through his mind.  
.  
Stiles wakes up with the laughing face of Deucalion in front of him. One hoarse yell can cause so much damage.  
Derek is shoved out of the bed, already looking around the room for threats, a red glow encompassing the room. Isaac crouches over Stiles, eyes flashing yellow. Scott immediately goes alpha wolf at the bottom of the bed, snarling at the door.  
Erica just looks at the way Stiles sighs in relief at the room, his entire body relaxing, and she gently pushes him down from his sitting position, wrapping her arm back around his stomach, her other arm cushioning his head.  
She looks around at the still wolfed out men, unconsciously comforting the boy hugging her to him, and shoves Isaac off the bed. He flails, tumbling into Derek and rolling into the wall with a thump, Scott laughing his ass off. Derek looks up at the frightened blue eyes above him and surprises everybody by chuckling and ruffling Isaac's hair affectionately.  
"I never knew that Sourwolf could laugh. It's an amazing discovery by Scientist Stilinski." Stiles mumbles to Erica's collarbone.  
She looks down and ruffles his hair before saying to him, "Yes, now go back to sleep. And all of you, shut up and come back to snuggle." Isaac untangles himself from his alpha, reaching down with a claw free hand that Derek grabs and pulls himself up with a faint grunt.  
Isaac resumes his position at the head of the bed and everybody hears, "Yay, a snugly pile of werewolves with a seriously injured boy. Who would ever want to break this up? Somebody should get a picture of this and send it to me when I don't believe them that this actually is happening and isn't a very vivid dream I am having."  
"Stiles?" Erica says.  
"What? I've had some very vivid dreams before that I thought where real. Turns out they weren't. " Stiles says through a yawn.  
"Shut up." Isaac buries his face into Stiles' hair, resting a hand on his shoulder.  
"'Mkay." Stiles voice floats up from the three heads in his vicinity and Derek chuckles again under his breath. A hand shoots up from underneath the covers, Stiles making grabby hands at Derek's warmth. Derek shoves the hand away and gets back onto the bed behind Stiles, a faint grunt vibrating against his chest. Derek slides his hands around Stiles' waist and he nips gently at the back of his neck, drawing in his scent.  
Adderall gives sharp astringent to the otherwise musty teenage boy smell. A touch of gunpowder, some slight scent of Scott, sweat and a leftover trace of fear from his nightmare. But what shocks Derek the most is the emotion that Stiles is successfully repressing. Derek burrows his face into the side of Stiles' neck and draws in a deep breath, exhaling warmly onto his skin.  
Desire pulses hotly through him as he finally realizes the scent. Arousal is the soft nip at the edges of his facade and he struggles within himself against the wolf crying mate to him. Stiles shifts closer to his chest, humming slightly in his throat and Derek forces down his own scent of desire and instead projects protectiveness, keeping his nose pressed against Stiles' throat.  
Isaac rumbles happily above their heads, his hand curving around the top of Stiles'  long fluffy hair, gently carding his fingers through it as Erica rubs her hand up and down his ribs. Scott resumes his place on top of Stiles' legs, his weight comforting his friend of his presence.  
"Hush now. Go back to sleep." Erica murmurs against shivering skin, the heat in the room sweltering from the four weres body heat, but the lone human is still shivering softly in their midst.  
Stiles himself is unsure of if it's from the hypothermia, or because he has a tickling feeling that a certain Sourwolf has found out his feelings towards him.  
.  
"So. When did this happen and why?" A soft voice murmurs in the slightly opened doorway.  
"Well, seeing as he has hypothermia, he needed to be heated up as soon as possible. He continued to shove the heated blankets off, saying that they burned and then I realized his four friends all had high body temperatures and have off that heat beautifully. They agreed to warm him up and he did not argue so it was a win-win for us." A hand waves toward the pile of people in the bed and noticing that some are stirring, reaches forward and pulls the door shut with a soft click. The soft voices continue away from the room and Stiles shifts slightly.  
"Dad?" Stiles turns away from Erica to look toward the now closed door.  
A surprised whine bubbles out of his lips as gentle hands man-handle him onto his side, his back facing Erica. Stiles feels as if his heart is in his mouth again when a sleep heavy arm slides across his waist and warm breath floats over his clammy lips.  
"If we are going to get you warmed up," a rumbling voice says above Stiles face, "then you are going to have to get closer to us all." And Stiles bites back a squeal as Derek pulls himself flush, warm and sleepy, against Stiles' battered body. A laugh echoes above him as he puts his slightly shaky hand against Derek's chest, right on his heart. When he feels how Derek's heart is racing almost as fast as his, he feels astonished.  
"Stiles being speechless is something I never thought would happen." His deep voice vibrates in the chest pressed against his and Stiles smiles.  
"Well you might just have to get used to it Sourwolf." A huff of laughter vibrates again and Stiles feels hot breath against his lips. Swallowing thickly, Derek feels the nervousness quivering throughout the being next to him and in a rush, pushes their lips together.  
A gasp is his reward, along with Stiles deftly slipping one hand into his rough hair, guiding him deeper into the kiss. He feels Stiles gently swipe his tongue across his bottom lip, nipping it with his teeth moments after. Derek has to bite back a groan and soften his hold on Stiles' hips, remembering why they are in a hospital bed. But soon enough Stiles has forced his tongue past Derek's lips and teeth, slowly swiping his tongue all over the inside if Derek's mouth.  
Derek cannot help but return the favor, smiling against Stiles' lips when one of his hands strays to the strap on Derek's jeans, those long fingers slipping below the waist line, teasing at the top of his boxers.  
A footstep warns Derek early and he breaks off the kiss gracefully, turning Stiles back to face Erica, and slinging his arm around his waist.  
"Be quiet. Somebody is coming." Derek whispers quickly into Stiles' neck, pressing a quick kiss to the part just below the back of his skull before laying his head on the edge of the pillow.  
A thin beam of light penetrates the darkness, washing over the five teens gently. Scott moans softly and shoves his head into the crook of Erica's leg, causing the door to slowly drift closed, shutting them all back into darkness. Derek strains to hear the conversation outside in the hallway, his suspicions confirmed.  
"Well all I can say is that they all look so damned happy that it would break my heart to wake my son up."  
"I'll let you know when they wake up, I have to bring Scott, Erica and Isaac to school tomorrow anyway."  
The feminine voice softens a little at the names if the three younger members of Derek's pack.  
"Yeah. Try to keep an eye on Derek if he stays all day tomorrow. He's a bit older than I had thought."  
Derek hears a hand being placed on a forearm and Scott's mom says, "You had better trust that young man in there. He is the one who found Stiles, and the one who went out after them. He's the one who found the beta and he's the one who got information from the beta. He's also the one who is risking his life to get your son out of everything they do. If you don't trust him with all that, then you need to rethink why he is sleeping in there with your son."  
A soft laugh. "I guess your right. Night Melissa."  
"Night John. And remember what I said."  
Stiles feels Derek relax against his back and he frowns, thinking over what he heard his dad and Mrs. McCall saying. Now he owes his alpha. Stiles just have to figure out a way to make them even.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One month later and some friends come to visit!
> 
> Yeah, these aren't friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda short. So hopefully the next one will be a tad longer.

It does not take long for Stiles to become even with Derek.  
A month after he had been let of the hospital, Stiles was going on a nice walk alone through a certain someone's property. Stiles was cursing loudly, looking at his feet lest he trip again and get even later to the pack meetings he had established. And the last time he was late Derek had high tailed it over to him, tracking him, and Derek had subsequently gotten shot in the stomach with some wolfsbane lead.  
Stiles was only fighting off a group of random hunters for the fun of it, no need to be saved. If only Stiles had been winning. But now, he is late by his own fault, waking up late after smashing his alarm clock against a wall.  
"Derek really needs to buy a house on an actual street. Not in some deep dark corner of the woods where teenage kids can get raped and murdered without anybody hearing. God, where is my gun?" Stiles started to pat his pockets, searching for the gun he had brought with him, the bullets filled with mountain ash.  
A loud snuffling sound is at his left, his gun already pointing in that direction. Just as the bright eyes latch into his being, Stiles takes one shot and sprints for the house.  
"Derek!" Stiles screams, stumbling over a log and getting a very bad flashback to the night of his torture. "Anybody want to help? Is anybody bodily able to help? Please?" A loud shout directs him to a clearing near a lake, and Stiles runs faster than he did one and a half months ago.  
He bursts into the clearing staring at the scene. Derek is wrapped up in ropes, hanging upside down from a tree, Isaac is laying bloody and unmoving on the ground, Erica is crying while she beats a thing to death with a log.  
The first thing out of his mouth is, "Where the hell did that lake come from?"  
"Stiles," Derek gasps, "nobody here cares. Now then, help me get out, or you are going to get eaten by one of these things."  
Stiles rushes over to Derek and starts to hack away at the ropes with a knife.  
"So if your all werewolfy, then why can't you break these suckers and get out?" Stiles asks as he jumps into the tree to start at the main rope. The creature that had been chasing Stiles crashes into the clearing, growling and staring straight at Stiles. Making a sound that definitely did not come out of Stiles' mouth, he starts to hack faster at the rope, grumbling loudly.  
Broad shoulders with a muscled back, trimming down to a slim pair of hips. Four legs, each ending with large paws and yellowing claws. A wolf shaped head, dark hollow eyes, and a dribbling jaw. It grows impatient and decides to charge straight at its next hopeful meal.  
"Stiles." Derek warns.  
"What?" Stiles is panting heavily having almost broken through the first rope.  
"Get up the tree. Now!"  
Shaken at the stern voice, Stiles clambers up the trunk beside him just as the wolf creature breathes down his slender neck for the first time. The rough bark scrapes at his hands, and he can feel the teeth snapping at his heels. After he has secreted himself in a sturdy fork about thirty feet off the ground, Stiles speaks.  
"So why isn't this guy trying to eat you or any other werewolf in this clearing? Why me? Do I look that delicious or something?"  
"No Stiles, it's just because your human, which this species used to be and the only way they can become human is by eating another that was the exact same age as they were when they got turned into this." Derek leans away from the snarling muzzle in front of his face, the same snarl curling his lips away from his sparkling teeth.  
"Damn boy, why do you always look so adorable when you're in danger?"  
"Stiles, this is not the time. And anyways, he wants me to translate"  
"Translate? What are you talking About dude?"  
"Don't call me dude. And this shit he's saying is disturbing."  
Derek hears a loud sigh before some bark rains down the trunk, causing the animal to run around it howling.  
"Dammit Stiles, can you not?"  
"Sorry sorry. I thought you had to translate?"  
"What? Oh yeah. Well he says that he's a message from Deucalion." Stiles watches as Derek snaps his canines at the creatures nose. "He also says the Deucalion wants you to remember."  
Derek quiets at that and Stiles laughs. The creature looks up at him and growls, startling badly at the noise.  
"Well," Stiles shifts to a better position. "You tell Deucalion that I have a reply. Peace out motherfucker." And with that, Stiles jumps out of the tree and onto the back of the thing, a length of rope wrapping around its neck and his silver knife lodged deep in its jugular.  
With a deep screech, it tries to buck Stiles off and he hears Derek vaguely screaming his name.  
"Yee haw!" Stiles tightens his grip on the rope, lifting his hand on the knife off the handle, instead waving it in the air, his body being whipped back and forth. "I might just get a world record here! Anybody recording this?"  
Derek screams Stiles' name again when his ride is cut short. With a mighty buck, the mutant werewolf slings Stiles off its back and straight into a tree. Red seeps into Derek's eyesight as he hears the muffled thump of Stiles' body along with some terrifying cracks.  
"Not so easy to defeat now Stiles?" The creature snarls and Derek's blood runs cold as it locks its teeth onto the collar of Stiles' shirt and starts dragging him out of the clearing.  
Before, Derek has fought against his wolf when it came to Stiles' pain, but now, when the anger in him has reached a whole new level, he lets his wolf wash over him, both minds working in perfect harmony. A roar bursts out of his fanged mouth and the ropes around him shear, his body unconsciously flipping to land on the balls of his feet.  
"Erica, leave, before I don't have any control." At her horrified look he roars again. "Now!"  
Satisfied for a moment, Derek watches as she scrambles away with a dizzy Isaac in tow.  
Turning back to the mutant, Derek stares at him with pure hatred.  
"It's just you and me. So first, put down Stiles so we can have a little one-on-one. Just you and me." The creature complies and Derek smiles, his bones crackling as he takes on his true wolf form.


End file.
